


Fugue State

by BrighteyedJill



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-19
Updated: 2007-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-22 16:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrighteyedJill/pseuds/BrighteyedJill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything seems a little unreal for Niki after what happened in LA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fugue State

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://heroes-las.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://heroes-las.livejournal.com/)**heroes_las** Round 1, Challenge 6: Niki Sanders.

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/brighteyed_jill/pic/000104re/)

 

The blood is warm when it spatters her. Niki has had blood on her before, but she’s forgotten how warm it is, sticky-hot and full of life. Life is suddenly bleeding out of D.L. all over the stairs. Kneeling beside him, she wants to make a joke about how he should stop getting shot—what has it been, four times now?—but she puts her hand on his stomach where the hole is, with red pouring out of it, and she can’t make a joke. Instead, she’s saying, “It’s okay, baby. We’re going to get you help.”

 

Even as Niki says it, she knows it’s different this time. D.L.’s eyes are blank, staring and not seeing her. This isn’t getting shot in the arm and wrapping it up in a dirty t-shirt. This isn’t even biting her nails off in the waiting room during surgery. D.L. is not dying, he’s dead. He’s gone.  
***************

 

Niki answers the cop’s questions without looking at him. Yes, she’d been with that guy earlier. No, D.L. hadn’t done anything to provoke him. No, she doesn’t remember doing any drugs. She feels high, though. Everything in the police station is bright and painful.

 

When her phone rings, it’s shrill, a whining chirp. She stares at the glittery pink purse she didn’t own yesterday, digs the phone out of it, reads the caller ID. She lets it ring.

 

“You gonna get that?” the cop asks.

 

“It’s my son,” she says, as if that answers the question. He keeps looking at her, so she flips open the phone, says nothing.

 

After a second, Micah says, “Mom?”

 

“Yeah.” Easy words. Hollow words. “I’m here, baby.”

 

“What’s going on? I saw the note on your mirror.” He sounds scared. “Where’s Dad?”

 

“I’ll be home soon,” Niki says. Her voice is falsely high, diamond bright and bubbly. It’s a voice she doesn’t recognize. She wonders if Gina talks like that.

 

“You’re lying. I can tell,” he says. Niki knows that tone. It must be disappointment. “What’s happening?”

 

“Micah,” she says, as if saying his name will keep him from discovering the truth.

 

“Mom. Tell me what happened. I can get on the internet and find out, you know.”

 

“I can’t,” she says. There’s no mother in her right now. There’s nothing in her.

 

“Fine.” And he hangs up.  
***************

 

She takes the bus back to Vegas. It’s ten in the morning when she gets home, and Micah meets her at the door. He should be in school, she realizes dimly. Micah looks at her with something like hate and retreats to his room. He doesn’t speak to her.

 

Somehow funeral plans emerge. The body is transported from the morgue in LA. The service is scheduled. The rest of D.L.’s family is notified. It takes Niki a few days to realize that Micah’s the one doing all the planning.

 

Niki lets him do it, is glad to let him do it. She sits in her bedroom holding D.L.’s fire helmet. She covers up the mirrors, not because she is afraid of Jessica or Gina, but because she can’t bear to look at herself right now. If she caught her reflection, she’d want to claw at it, shatter it, scream, “Weak,” and “Stupid,” and “Selfish.”

 

At the funeral she barely talks. There’s nothing she wants to say. Maybe to Micah. Maybe she wants to say she’s sorry, but that’s not the right thing to say, and she knows she’s not ready even if it was the right thing.

 

The family wants to help her, and she wants to scream at D.L.’s nana for being so kind. She wants to say, “Don’t you know I killed your boy?” and “Please hate me like I deserve.” Instead, she follows the Dawsons out onto the porch, and that’s where she sees Bob.

 

He’s standing in the driveway like he’s just another mourner come with casserole and platitudes. He nods to her, though, and there’s understanding in his eyes. Niki feels relief: thank god, at last, there’s someone who knows how guilty she is. Someone who understands how this is all her fault.

 

He’d warned her. Bob had told her what would happen. _“You’ve been through so much for your family. Do you really want to risk losing them all again?”_

 

Bob stands beside her on the porch and follows her gaze out into the sunny street. “Are you ready now?” he asks.

 

Niki nods, and she feels awake for the first time since the spray of D.L.’s blood covered her face. She says, “Just tell me what I have to do.”


End file.
